Opposing Sides, left off. Raven and Lexi are together, but it's not so simple. Her parents and his past are the main obstacles that are testing their relationship. Lexi has been attempting to be the perfect child for her mother for a long time. Now, she's living on the edge with Raven for a bit as Christmas break nears. It's a really great read. If you haven't read this series, I recommend starting with book 1 because you may get a bit lost as character history is assumed. But I like it. It's like I'm in on the little secrets and I know how far Lexi has come. She has a very dysfunctional family that is mentioned a bit in this book as well as the first. I have a feeling we'll be learning more about her mother as the series progresses. However, we get to learn more about Raven in this book. And wow, Doporto definitely delivers some whoppers about this college quarterback hunk.
Review by Amber
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
It was fast-paced fun that I wouldn't mind reading again. Soon. I am famous for trying to figure out the "whodunnit" part of the book before it's revealed, but I found myself not even wanting to do that in this book. I just wanted to experience everything as it happened and not miss a moment of it. Cheri keeps her readers hooked by providing great dialogue, awesome characters, and a great plot.
Review by Amber
at 9:00 AM
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Wyatt Banks is ready to give one woman the world. Unfortunately, his job as a cop tends to interfere with other goals. When Wyatt is sent deep undercover to investigate a sex slave ring, he doesn’t have time to do anything but focus on staying alive in a dark and dangerous underworld.
Wyatt isn’t alone though in his quest to save the women that are being sold into sexual slavery.
His partner, FBI Agent Andrea Somerville, is immersed just as deeply as he is, and she’s the bait to lure the sex slavers out into the open, as she poses as an erotic dancer in an attempt to snare the enemy. But danger runs as high as the sparks between them, and now Wyatt is caught between the job he loves and the woman he wants.
WITH A TWIST can be read as a stand-alone novel.
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Where to buy
*Full review coming soon
At 50% in I can tell you With a Twist was not what I expected from book 4 in the Last Call series. It was way better! There is a bit of romantic suspense and I totally devoured it! Andrea and Wyatt just may turn out to be my favorite Last Call couple. Check back for the full review later this week
Review by Danielle
About the Author
USA Today Best-Selling author, Sawyer Bennett, is a snarky southern woman and reformed trial lawyer who decided to finally start putting on paper all of the stories that were floating in her head. She is married to a mobster (well, a market researcher) and they have two big, furry dogs who hog the bed. Sawyer would like to report she doesn’t have many weaknesses but can be bribed with a nominal amount of milk chocolate.
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Sunday, January 4, 2015
Two women spin a tale of comedy and new beginnings after they wake up and find themselves in a jail cell over 3000 miles away from home. Rehashing their adventure in front of a less-than-sympathetic judge, they give a laugh-out-loud and extremely detailed story of a road trip that finds them in a ton of trouble.
Battling age, weight, and their own personal demons, not only do they discover the open road and a life they misplaced somewhere in their 20s, they also find themselves. From breakups and stealing cars to blurry memories of something that might have happened in New Mexico, these two women will take you on a real journey, full of fun and, well, situations that people only write about and never really do….or do they?
Twitter: That awkward moment when you wake up in jail and you wonder what you did to get there. Then smile. #TripleX
A lone dimly lit light bulb sways gently from the jail cell’s ceiling. It hurts to open my eyes toward it, so I squint to try to ease the pain. A handful of loudly buzzing insects fly wildly around the dull yellow globe and just the sight causes me to scratch at my arms and neck madly. I loathe bugs. And it's like Swarmageddon above my head right now.
Pulling myself up into a sitting position, the throbbing behind my eyes turns sharp and shatters into millions of razor-tipped tiny pieces of glass. I moan as I grab my head in pounding pain. The room spins, and I fall back with a hard thud against the cold concrete wall.
I hear footsteps, heavy and impending, walking along the rough cement of the hallway. I peek through my fingers, but all I can see is the knotted hair of my cellmate, my partner in crime.
The footsteps become louder, closer. Keys are jangling. Someone is whistling, and the screech of the rusty cell door makes scorching bile burn the back of my throat. I swallow twice to keep it down.
"Stone. Zolendz. Up-and-at-'em. Going before the judge," a deep voice bellows. I hate the man instantly.
I believe I moan out some sort of unintelligible sound, but I'm not sure. Who can be sure?
The dull bulb overhead flickers and makes a sizzling sound. Damn, I'm in a place where even the bugs are killing themselves. "Come on ladies, let's go," the voice yells. It's closer now, and the body attached to it starts kicking the wooden bench I'm sitting on. I think my head is going to explode from the vibrations and violent crashes that echo through my head. "What's the matter, not willing to offer up your goods this morning?"
My head snaps up, "Excuse me?"
The man standing over me is older, in his sixties with a long gray beard. His eyes dance with laughter. "Well, Ma'am. That's what you tried to bribe us with last night when we put you in here. Your goooooooods." He kind of shimmies a little and gives a few humps into the air. I vomit a little in my mouth.
"Oh my God. Seriously? Just don't...just don't pay any attention to anything I said, okay?" I mumble my mortification.
"You mean to tell me, you'll be cancelling our hot date tonight?" he laughs, snidely, mocking me. "Come on, Darlin' the judge is waiting on you both. No harm done last night, you both were quite intoxicated."
"Oh God, I think I'm going to be sick." Slowly, I pull myself off the bench, every bone in my body screaming for a few more hours of silently sound sleep. And really, that stupid light bulb is annoying the Hell out of me; someone needs to shoot it.
"Angelisa," I whisper and shake her awake. "Come on. We have to go. A judge wants to see us."
"Blah...Ha. Ha. Very funny. Lemme sleep," Angelisa groans and swats her hand at me. It falls to her side with a loud thwack against the metal rim of the bed.
"I can't. Clear your head and think about last night. Think back. Go ahead," I urge. She doesn't. She remains motionless and silent; all but a small, low snore can be heard. "You seriously need to open your eyes right now, because we're in trouble," I hiss ominously.
Her head slowly turns toward me, eyes blinking open. They dart around the room and widen; a bubble of laughter escapes her lips. "We're in jail, aren't we?"
I smile and join in with her laughter, "We are indeed, waking up together in a jail cell."
"Damn it, I can't go to prison. You know how horrible I look in stripes," she whispers as she climbs up to her feet, grabbing onto my shoulder and using me for leverage.
"Quick," I look around the cell and laugh, "anybody got a cell phone? I wanna take a cellfie."
And we try, we really do try not to fall back down into a fit of giggles, but it's way too hard. We follow the guard down the hallway.
“Dude, I could so be a violent criminal.” Angelisa mumbles. “Shouldn’t you cuff me? Why doesn’t anyone ever want to handcuff me, Chris?” she whines.
“Ummm, she’s not violent. We swear. She’s just…just…dumb.” I explain, nudging her.
“Seriously though, how does he know I’m not packing an oozie in my girly stuff?”
“Ya know that is true. It’s kind of sexist that you don’t think we could be hiding heat?”
“Ladies, the only thing you two are trying to hide…or hide from is good old-fashioned middle age. And quite frankly, neither one of you is doing a bang-bang up job of it,” the son-of-a-slut says, pretending to shoot us.
“Is that what you do now? Shoot blanks?” Angelisa quips, exploding in laughter that spirals out of control until we’re both laughing like lunatics.
“Enough!” he shouts, trying to silence us before we enter the courtroom.
The two of us are still giggling like two immature kids being brought in front of the principal. Matted hair, mascara-streaked cheeks, and barefoot. I’m pretty sure I even have an extra tattoo somewhere.
We're sworn in; big vocabulary is used. Case numbers are brought forth, and I almost fall asleep. I’m just about to face plant into the table with exhaustion when Judge Caroline Jacobson calls both of us up to the podium. "Ms. Zolendz. Ms. Stone. Approach the bench please." She has dark tired brown eyes, the kind that are weighed down with darker brown bags beneath them. Her light blonde hair is pulled back into a tight, painful looking bun. It's streaked with gray. I want to pull out all those restraining pins. I want her to stop feeling so tight and tense behind her bench. I want her to feel free like me, like us.
Almost as if Angelisa’s reading my thoughts, she mumbles, “Man, she needs to get laid…and needs to get those roots done.” I can’t control the giggle that escapes me. The judge eyes us sternly, and you can nearly hear our mouths snap shut.
"As I hear, you both were found in the fountains of the Bellagio last night. Swimming. Naked," she chirps.
"Yes, that's true," Angelisa giggles, proudly next to me.
I nod my head in agreement, "Yeah, that certainly sounds like us—well, the new us, anyway."
The judge pinches her lips into a tight pucker. Doesn't she realize that’s exactly what makes those little wrinkles all around her mouth? She pulls out an envelope marked Prisoner Property/Currency and unfastens the clasp. I suck my lips between my teeth to stop myself from laughing, because this isn't funny—at all. But if I remember correctly, the things in the envelope are.
She slips one dainty little hand in.
Angelisa and I lean forward to watch.
Two books of matches, fifty-six dollars, a bent wedding ring, a fake moustache, a shoehorn, four glow sticks, two “Call for a good time” prostitute cards, a tube of Ben-gay, and an extra large rubbery dildo that flops on its side when she places it on her desk.
"Do you want to explain to me why two fully grown women, respected in their fields, would be caught in this situation…with these items?"
Angelisa and I look and back and forth from her to each other and back again. We both shrug.
"Well, it all started with an apple pie," I smile.
Angelisa nods next to me, "Yes, definitely. That's probably where it all started, the apple pie fiasco."
The judge leans back and draws in a long breath. She pulls her glasses off her fatigued eyes and rubs them softly with her hands. "An apple pie?"
"Yes. A forgotten apple pie. I can tell you every detail except for three or four days where I have no recollection. Both of us can, it's what we do, tell stories."
The corner of the judge's lips curl up the tiniest bit, "Come into my chambers ladies, this I have to hear."
About the Authors
Angelisa Stone is a typical Midwestern wife and mom, frazzled by parenting and housework, and overwhelmed with sports schedules, doctor appointments, and three-dimensional creative projects due "tomorrow morning." Angelisa dreams of white sandy beaches, clear-blue waters, and Midori coladas in hand, but realizes that her loving husband and four not-so-perfect children are her real dreams-come-true. Writing and reading are her passions, and she hopes (and prays with her fingers tightly crossed) that readers will find enjoyment and escape through her words and characters.
at 12:00 AM
Thursday, January 1, 2015
He wants to tie me up, but I don’t know his face.
He turns me on, but I couldn’t point him out in a crowd.
I’ve fallen for an anonymous stranger, and tonight the anonymity ends. Tonight I want more than typed secrets and texted promises. I want something reckless. Heat. Passion. The thrill of being entirely possessed.
Because I suspect this anonymous stranger isn’t a stranger at all.
Lizzy Thompson met riverrat69 online through Something Real, a service promising to deliver meaningful relationships by forbidding its users to share names or photos until they’ve reached a certain benchmark. She was looking for love. He was researching an investment. They hit it off. Talked and flirted, hid behind screen names and cartoon avatars.
Now they’re breaking the rules and meeting in person. But Liz is prepared. She’s picked up hints and followed clues.
She’s ninety-percent convinced she’s discovered the identity of her dirty-talking online friend.
She wonders if her ex-lover Sam Bradshaw knows her identity too.
When she rolls the dice on one reckless night, her chance at something real could crumble.
Excerpt from Something Reckless
“You look amazing in this dress. I’ve been pretending all night that there’s something I want to do more than get you out of it.”
“What would you do with me if you got so lucky?”
“I’d keep you up all night, for starters.” He slides a hand into my hair and traces the side of my neck with his thumb. His groan rumbles through me. “Tell me what you came here for.”
I thought that was pretty clear. “I’m wearing extremely slutty underwear. What do you think?”
His nostrils flare and his breathing goes thready. “I think I’m going to have to up my game, because now I want to see it.”
I have to bite back a smile. “Good,” I say. My heart thumps out a beat, probably Morse code for please and thank you.
“How slutty is this underwear of yours?”
I lick my lips. “Oh, it’s damn near whorish.”
“Let me see it, Liz.”
I lift my chin and prop my hands on my hips. “Seriously? That’s all the seduction I get? Let me see it?”
He steps closer until I have to crane my neck to look at him, and holy hell he smells good. “What game are we playing here, Rowdy?” he murmurs against my ear. “Is this the one where we pretend we don’t want each other and sleep alone . . .” His fingers skim down my shoulder and my eyes float closed. “Or is it the one where I make you come so hard you scream my name and tomorrow you act like you want nothing to do with me?”
“Are those my only choices?” I ask, but I keep my eyes closed, focusing on the feel of his rough fingers dancing across my skin. The truth is, I don’t want to play either game. I’m done playing games when it comes to Sam. I’m done pretending I don’t want him when I do, and I’m done pretending our annual one-night stand is enough for me.
“Tell me you aren’t going to run away in the morning. Promise me you won’t shut me out again.”
I don’t know what that means, and I’m too scared to analyze it. My eyes are still closed when he takes my chin in his fingers and tilts my face up to his, still closed when he brushes his lips over mine and when I open under him because I’m helpless to this man’s kiss.
“Promise me,” he repeats.
“I won’t run away.” Then I unzip my dress and let it fall to the floor in a puddle, and my boldness is rewarded. Sam’s lips part and his breath escapes him in a rush.
He steps back and takes me in. The bra is strapless, black lace demi-cups that lift my breasts until they threaten to spill out. The panties—what there is of them—are a thong in matching black lace. Their fine lace straps sit in a sharp V high on my hipbones.
A ringlet of hair escaped my up-do, and he takes it between his fingers and twirls it around. I deserve a medal for not melting right here at his feet.
He hooks his index finger under the black bow between my bra cups. “Did you wear this for me?” His voice is a husky whisper that I can’t deny.
His fingers skim my belly, trace over my hip, following the lace of my thong behind me to where the straps meet at the small of my back. My breath catches as he takes the fabric path over the curve of my tailbone and down, his fingers bringing every nerve ending to life as they pass. Electric pleasure whips through me.
“Fourteen months since I’ve touched you,” he says. “Fourteen months since I’ve gotten to hear the way you breathe when you’re turned on, since I’ve gotten to listen to you scream as I make you come. Tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“I’d be lying.”
“Don’t lie,” he says, eyes hot and intense. “Just tell me you want me.”
Copyright Lexi Ryan, 2014
Make sure you check out the FREE (at time of posting) prequel Something Wild!
Amazon | Barnes & Noble
Amazon | Barnes & Noble
“You need a good guy. A long-term guy. One who does dates and romance and emotional strings…I’m just an asshole who wants to tie you up, make you come, and walk away.”
Samuel Bradshaw is a man with a reputation—the kind of reputation that should have me running the other way. Instead, it has me searching for the shortest distance to his bed. I won’t be the starry-eyed girl who thinks she can change a man like Sam, and despite what he thinks, forever is not what I need. I need the things he makes me feel, the way he turns me on, and the promise of pleasure in his eyes. This promises to be SOMETHING WILD.
About the Author
New York Times and USA Today bestselling romance author Lexi Ryan’s novels have been described as intense, emotional, and wickedly sexy. A former college professor, she now writes full-time from her home in Indiana, where she lives with her husband, two children, and a neurotic dog. Find her on Facebook or Twitter to chat about books, TV, and her children’s latest antics.